


Watch Yourself

by Jay_Kay



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Probably OOC but the image was too good to resist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Kay/pseuds/Jay_Kay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a ME Kink Meme Prompt. It's late on the Normandy SR-2, and Jack hears some strange noises in Miranda's room...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Yourself

It was third shift on the Normandy SR-2, and on schedule, Jack was raiding the kitchen in the crew deck. It was a matter of safety for the former subject—while her unique implants required less food than most biotics, the whole “three square meals” thing still made her peckish. So she had taken to getting her own food at night—what passes for night in deep space—when most of the ship was either sleeping or working. 

At first it was for _her_ safety—didn't want to be around a bunch of Cerberus fucks, who could drop the “heroic crusaders against the evil Collectors” bullshit and put her back in chains and operating tables. As of late, Jack accepted that they were genuine in that regard at least, especially Commander Shepard and the other people in the drop team. Even the Cheerleader, Jack figured, was only there to annoy the shit out of her. Now she did her midnight runs more for _their_ safety—there is only so much of the ship crew staring at her tits that she can take before the urge to rip the crew deck apart with a shockwave became too intense. She got enough of that shit from Donnelly in Engineering.

So, as Jack picked up the food she scavenged— _summer sausage, block of cheese, and a sleeve of Oreos, the breakfast of goddamn champions_ —she heard a strange thumping sound. Stepping out of the kitchenette, she tracked the sound to the XO office/sleeping quarters of Queen Cerberus Cheerleader Bitch Miranda Lawson. Jack put her ear to the wall of the office, and the thumping was more recognizable as a thumping, heavy bass. Music.

“What the fuck?” Jack said to herself as she looked at the door. The holographic projection glowed green, meaning she could just...open the door to investigate. Shepard had made Jack promise not to go into Miranda's office without being asked, to lessen the possibility of another “incident” like after they got back from Pragia, but she was too fucking curious to see what was behind that door.

Jack opened the door to see the Cerberus Operative, out of her uniform, clad in a tight tank top and tighter shorts...dancing? It wasn't the rhythmic steps that she had seen and done in nightclubs across the galaxy. Miranda's legs were spread wide, back bent over her desk, giving Jack a, well, perfect view of the Cheerleader's perfect ass bouncing and flexing right in front of her. 

It was...stunning, memorizing really. Jack's eyes were glued to Miranda's big bubbly butt as it did things she had seen no other ass do. Confusion turned to...something else, deep in her gut that had nothing to do with hunger. Jack had stared at Miranda's ass before—it was pretty fucking hard not to—but when clad in her tight white catsuit. Her casual or sleep wear wasn't as tight, but seeing the creamy white skin of Miranda's long legs, slender and fit in all the right places, the shorts riding just high enough to see an inch of her cheeks in the flesh...

_Clank!_

The music was mute in comparison to the plate in Jack's hand falling to the ground, contents rolling on the floor. Miranda turned to see Jack standing in front of the door, eyes wide as saucers. Miranda almost jumped in the air as she turned to face the convict. Jack was relieved at first, until she got a good look at Miranda's front. The tank top was cut low, revealing a deep line of cleavage from her large, perky tits. The top was cut low at the bottom, giving Jack a tantalizing glimpse of Miranda's toned stomach. The shorts were just as high up in the front outlining things between the Operative's legs much better than her catsuit. Jack looked back at Miranda's face, sweat gleaming down her brow, full lips panting, face red from the activity, and getting redder at being caught.

“Jack!” Miranda yelled, fists clenched tight at her sides. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Uh...I...uh...” Jack struggled to find the words, the images permanently burned in her brain, eyes darting to look at anything than what was in front of her. She saw the plate below her and old synapses were finally firing right. “Kitchen! Yes. Uh. Getting...food.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Miranda muttered to herself as she folded her arms under her breasts, which did...things that made Jack's brain sputter again. “And you barged into my locked room...why?”

“I...no. No. It wasn't, uh, locked.” Jack decided to shake her head to further communicate this. 

Miranda sighed, muttered a “whatever,” and saw the roll of summer sausage right next to her feet. The operative bent to her knees to pick it up, inadvertently giving Jack a perfect view of her breasts dangling under the weight of gravity so full and large and is that an outline of a nipple and Jack's brain was full of swear words. Finally understanding what Miranda was doing—besides offering the exquisite view—Jack bend down to pick up the plate, cookies and cheese from the floor. She stood back up to see Miranda a few feet away, offering the thick sausage roll wrapped in her hand. Jack shoved aside any Freudian implication and took it from Miranda's hand and back on her plate.

“Look, I was just...uh...working out some excess energy,” Miranda said, face getting redder. “No mission means I've been cooped up here all day and...well, I was just trying some old dance moves from Earth a century ago and...” Miranda's eyes suddenly got cold, her full lips in a grim line. “This. Never. Happened. Got it?”

“What?”

“Exactly. Off you go.” Miranda lightly pushed Jack away from the open door and it slammed shut, the hologram blazing red. Jack stared at the red display for a moment, but really looked back at what she just witnessed. The images were burned into her eyelids and her brain replayed them back and forth as she felt a familiar throb between her legs. Jack scampered back to the elevator, plate almost forgotten in her hand, eager to get back to Engineering and back to her bunk.


End file.
